RemoteUser
Posts: 2854
Joined: 5/10/2011 Status: offline
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Woke up. Fell out of bed. Dragged a comb across my head. (More or less. I epitomize routine. Wake up, make my son's breakfast, lay out his medicine; wake him up, hop in the shower, get dressed, fill my coffee mugs, pack our backpacks, out the door. Take my boy to school, get to work, and dance through a comedy of errors. Leave work, pick up the boy, go home, do dishes, make lunches, set coffee for the next morning, start supper. Coerce the boy to eat, check in with my girl, check work mail for upcoming comedies. Spend time with little lad, get him in the tub, remind him to brush hair and teeth because it's not an either/or situation. Give him his second round of meds, drop the little man in bed. Spend more time with the girl, eventually read her a bedtime story. Pass out. Lather, rinse, repeat.)
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There is nothing worse than being right. Instead of being right, then, try to be open. It is more difficult, and more rewarding.
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